


just might try something different

by bestliars



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Multi, Threesome, poorly defined open relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-22 23:19:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2525426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestliars/pseuds/bestliars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Devils visit Nashville early in the 2011-12 season, and afterwards Shea gets to know one of Ryan’s friends a bit better than before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just might try something different

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for ummmm...fairly dysfunctional open relationships where no one talks about what they’re actually thinking??? Feel free to ask me for details. No actual infidelity, but poor communication all around.
> 
> Thanks to Angelsaves for betaing this <3

_fall of 2011_

Shea’s happy.

Happy enough. It’s a new season, another chance for his team to do something. Shea thinks they’ve got a chance; he can lead the way, with Ryan beside him. They can take whatever the next year has in store for them, the good and the bad. Shea thinks he’s ready for anything.

He just wasn’t prepared for this.

Ryan’s the one to bring it up, before the season’s even started. It’s still in the middle of training camp, and they’re lying on the couch after a hard practice when Ryan says, “So you know we’re playing the Devils early on?”

“Yeah?” Shea knows their schedule. He doesn’t have the game circled on his calendar as something to look forward to, but New Jersey’s a good team, and it should be interesting.

“So you know Zach and I, uh, we…”

“You’ve hooked up before, right?” Shea doesn’t care about stuff like this. He doesn’t care about summers, and he doesn’t care about the past, not when he knows Ryan is coming back to him in the fall.

“Yeah, sometimes.”

Shea doesn’t see why it matters. Not unless it’s going to be a problem on the ice, but it never has been before. 

“We hung out some this summer,” Ryan says. “And I was thinking, Zach’s cool, if you were still interested in…anything.”

Oh. _Oh._ Shea hasn’t thought about that in a while.

“Like a threesome?”

Ryan nods.

Shea thinks about it. They’ve talked about it before. He brought it up first, mostly as half- drunk dirty talk, not as a serious proposition, but since the possibility is there? Shea’s interested. Uncertain, but definitely interested.

“I think he’d like you,” Ryan says.

Shea doesn’t know what that means, but it sounds like a good thing. He says he’ll think about it, and they drop the subject. 

He has plenty of time to mull it over before the Devils get into town. He can’t really see a downside. It would be fun; Parise’s hot enough, and it could be cool to change things up. Ryan and him are solid; something like this as a one-off won’t change that. Even after Shea’s made up his mind, he waits a few more days, making sure he’s sure before he brings it up to Ryan.

It isn’t like it’s a huge deal, and Shea doesn’t want to make it into one. It’s another evening where they’re hanging out, and Shea says, “So, you know the thing about the threesome?”

Ryan nods.

“I’m in,” Shea says. “We should do that.”

Ryan smiles, and Shea’s hit by a feeling deep in his gut that he can’t describe.

“Cool, I’ll talk to Zach.”

Shea nods. Good, now that's settled, and he can stop wondering whether it’s a good idea or not. The details get worked out without his help, and the days fly by. Shea’s so busy with the start of the season that it almost sneaks up on him. It isn’t until they’re watching footage in preparation for playing the Devils that Shea’s reminded of Parise and the planned threesome. He should probably get excited, but he needs to stay focused on the game that comes first, where it will be up to Ryan and him to stop Parise and Kovalchuk from scoring. 

The game starts well enough. Clarkson boards Ryan, who’s fine, but Shea doesn’t know that right away. He gets called for roughing, but they still come out with three minutes of a powerplay. Shea would rather not have Ryan get boarded at all, but he’ll take this. They build an early two-goal lead off that, holding on until the third when things get tied up. It goes to a shootout, and Parise gets the Devils' second goal that wins it. In that moment, Shea has to hate him, at least a little bit. Hopefully that won't be enough to ruin the night.

Shea heads into the locker room pissed, but manages to settle down as he showers and goes through his post-game routine on autopilot. He’s ready to go before Ryan is, and has to wait before heading out.

Parise’s waiting for them, leaning against the wall in the hallway outside the locker room. He looks up and smiles when Ryan walks around the corner.

Parise hugs Ryan, which Shea didn’t expect: a sudden display of affection there for anyone to see. It’s just a friendly hug, not noticeably different from how Ryan sometimes gets with other team America buddies.

Hell, Shea isn’t that touchy-feely, but sometimes he shares hugs with other Canadian Olympians. Winning a gold medal together was a real bonding experience. Shea guesses losing a gold medal could be one too, but he wouldn’t know.

Maybe it lasts a second too long to be normal. It lasts long enough that Shea gets bored, but that doesn’t mean it lasted very long. He knows he doesn’t have much patience for these things.

After one last pat on the back, they break apart and finally remember that Shea’s there.

“So, I guess we’re doing this?” Parise says, smiling, tilting his face up to look Shea in the eye.

There’s a roll of nervous anticipation in Shea’s stomach. “Guess so.” Shea sizes Parise up, getting a good look at him off the ice. Shea knew Parise was attractive, but had never taken the time to think about how. Parise’s got a full mouth, strong eyebrows, and dimples because he’s smiling. He seems like someone who smiles a lot.

“Awesome,” Parise says.

Even after the hug has ended, Ryan’s still standing close to Parise. If Ryan was standing that close to Shea in public, Shea would take a step away, just to be careful. 

“Meet at my place?” Ryan suggests.

Shea nods. That makes sense; he has his own car at the arena.

“Cool,” Parise says. “This way, you and me can catch up on the drive over without boring Shea.”

Shea guesses that’s considerate of Parise. He gets into his vehicle and doesn’t think about what Ryan and Parise could be talking about. USA Hockey. The Midwest. Other things that aren’t very interesting. He turns on the radio and pays more attention to the familiar roads to Ryan’s house than he usually does.

Shea parks in Ryan’s driveway, and lets himself in. The dogs don’t run up to greet him, so they must already be in their crates for the night. Shea kicks his shoes off by the door and goes to find Ryan.

He’s in the living room, with Parise sitting close to him on the couch. Parise’s hand is on Ryan’s thigh, and Ryan looks rumpled, like they could have been kissing before Shea came in, but it’s hard to say for sure. It doesn’t really matter, not considering where the night’s headed. Shea won’t mind if they got a head start.

Shea wants to get close to Ryan, kiss him himself.

He settles on the couch on Ryan’s other side, ignoring how Parise smiles at him, which is just a distraction from his present single-minded interest in Ryan’s mouth.

Shea kisses Ryan hard. He doesn’t do it to stake a claim, but it might be a bit rougher than their kisses normally are. Normally their kisses aren’t narrated by anyone, either, and that’s just fine too. But well, isn’t the point that Parise’s here, watching?

Parise’s telling them how good they look, maybe muttering to himself, or maybe it’s for their benefit, Shea doesn’t know. He’s never been much for dirty talk, or talk in general, really.

Parise’s saying something about how strong Shea looks, that the way he’s manhandling Ryan is hot, that they look good together; apparently, they just look so good together.

Shea never doubted that; of course they look good together. But what does that even mean? _They look good together —_ why does it matter, who really has opinions on what other people look like when they kiss? Shea’s never spent much time thinking about it.

Shea stops kissing Ryan, because he can’t just kiss Ryan all night. Ryan leans away, and smiles at him. Before Shea can even smile back, Parise’s kissing him.

Shea startles — he wasn’t expecting this, but then he gets it together and kisses back. It’s nice enough. Parise pulls away before Shea’s really comfortable, but that’s okay; he doesn’t think he’d want to kiss for as long as that could take.

Parise turns to Ryan and says, “I thought you were going to show me your bedroom?”

Ryan gets up, and says, “I guess it would make sense to head that way.” Parise grabs on to Ryan’s hand to pull himself up. Ryan looks at Shea briefly, then starts heading upstairs. Shea stands slowly, and follows after them.

They don’t have very far to go, and then they’re all in the bedroom. It’s almost familiar, except for how there’s someone other than just him and Ryan there. Shea’s spent plenty of time in this room. He has his own shelf in the closet; he’s used to being comfortable here. Tonight’s just a little bit different.

Shea looks at Ryan, who seems happy. He’s grinning, just a little bit. It might be hard for some people to tell, but Shea knows, Ryan’s fine. Shea needs to relax and enjoy the night.

Parise kisses him again. There isn’t anything Shea can do except kiss back. Parise’s shorter than him, but is making up for it by holding onto Shea’s shoulders to pull himself up. Shea gets his hand on Parise’s ass to help hold him steady, and keeps kissing for long enough that by the time they break apart Shea truly is almost comfortable.

“Is this one of those things where we’re going to lose our clothes a little bit at a time, or should we just get naked?” Parise asks.

Shea shrugs. He doesn’t know; he’s never done this before, he doesn’t know what the right etiquette is for things like this, and isn’t sure he cares.

Parise laughs, like there’s something funny about this. “Let’s just get undressed. Get the show on the road already?”

Shea nods in agreement. They might as well get to it.

Shea starts stripping. He isn’t self-conscious after years of locker rooms. He pulls his shirt over his head, and sets it on the bureau, knowing that stuff on the floor will only get on Ryan’s nerves. Maybe he wouldn’t mind because this is a special occasion or whatever, but Shea’s used to undressing before bed, and Ryan has him trained up good.

Shea’s a little bit surprised to see Parise carefully laying his own clothes on the chair. Well, it isn’t like he has anything else here to wear later. Or maybe Ryan’s gotten to him too, who knows.

Shea moves on to take his pants off, socks, boxers, the whole nine yards. He’s been naked in this room plenty of times, it’s comfortable. Adding another person to the mix shouldn’t change that.

“Oh,” Parise says softly. Shea looks up to find Parise’s eyes on him. Huh. So apparently Parise’s into the fact that Shea’s got a big dick. Shea doesn’t think about it a whole lot, but...yeah. He’s pretty well endowed. Proportional is a word that’s been used before.

“Oh, wow,” Parise says, and cocks his head to the side like a dog.

Ryan laughs. “I thought you’d be interested.”

“You know me so well, I’m, yeah.” Parise smiles and laughs at himself. Someone else would think that’s cute. Shea isn’t sure what he thinks. Too cute maybe, not real enough. Maybe a little bit cute. He can see why someone would think that. It’s enough to keep him interested, while Ryan’s smiling back at Parise like he’s the best new thing.

Ryan kisses Parise, Shea can see that there’s a bit of force in it, enough to push Parise flat on his back on the bed. But that might not be Ryan; Parise falls back easily, and spreads his legs fast, looking good the whole time. Shea isn’t sure what he thinks of that except that it’s hot. He guesses he doesn’t really need any opinion other than that.

“Hand me the lube?” Ryan asks. Shea’s startled away from that train of thought. Shea grabs it from the nightstand and passes it over. Ryan smiles at him for a second before looking away. He has someone other than Shea to pay attention to tonight.

For now, Shea is the audience. He doesn’t know if he likes to watch, but he’s willing to give it a try. Ryan seems comfortable between Parise’s legs. He opens Parise up good. Ryan has confident hands. Shea’s familiar with how they feel on his own skin. He’s never gotten to see Ryan like this before, with someone else. He never thought he wanted to, but it’s interesting. Shea can focus on Ryan’s expression a lot better now than when Ryan’s doing this to him. It shouldn’t be surprising that Ryan’s smiling; of course he’s happy, this is good, right?

Still, Shea thought it would be a little bit more serious — _sexy_ or whatever. That’s not to say that it isn’t hot to hear Parise ask for another finger, saying he’s ready now, that Ryan’s being too slow, that he can take it. Shea’s sure he can, but Shea also knows Ryan can be a stubborn fuck.

“Hey, Zach, is it okay if I…” Ryan starts to ask something, but he doesn’t finish the sentence; instead, he puts his mouth on Parise’s thigh, flicks his tongue out. Shea doesn’t get it, but Parise must.

“Yeah?” He responds quickly, voice breathy. “Yeah, absolutely, go for it.”

Ryan moves his mouth, licking along where his fingers are inside Zach. Shea inhales sharply.

Ryan licks around his fingers, fast little movements that Shea can hardly track, which must be like torment, sure, must really be something else. Parise sure seems to like it from the way he’s getting louder. He was noisy enough already; this is just undignified, really.

Ryan’s always told Shea that he doesn’t have to be quiet, and if this is what Shea’s being compared to, then he could be a hell of a lot louder than he is, not that he wants to. Shea’s instinct is to bite down on his lip when something feels good, Parise’s seems to be to make porn star sounds. Shea can’t say it isn’t hot, it just doesn’t seem _real_ ; he’s having a hard time believing that people are like this _in real life_ , but apparently Zach is.

Ryan’s tongue fucks into Parise along with his fingers, and Parise moans, the sound filling the space of Ryan’s bedroom. 

Ryan slides in a third finger. Shea knows the feel of Ryan’s blunt fingertips, he knows it must be a stretch, that there must be at least a twinge of pain, but Parise seems to be enjoying himself, eyes closed, mouth open, but no noise for once.

Ryan’s good at this. Shea’s come from just Ryan’s fingers before. Shea’s excited to fuck Parise, but he’s a little bit jealous, too, that Ryan’s doing this to someone else. He doesn’t really care that much, though, because he’ll have other nights with Ryan, while this is all Parise gets.

Maybe Shea would sound just as desperate too, if this wasn’t something he knows he can count on.

“Fuck me,” Parise says, practically panting.

“Not the plan tonight,” Ryan says.

“Yeah, not you, Shea though. I’m good, Ryan, really,” Parise says, and Shea’s willing to believe him; Parise’s been moaning for long enough, Shea’s ready to go.

Ryan’s brow furrows. “Are you sure? Shea’s really…”

Parise interrupts him, which is probably for the best. Shea thinks he would have been embarrassed by the end of that sentence. “Ryan, babe, I swear, I am so fucking ready for this,” Parise says, meeting Ryan’s gaze straight on. Shea can’t read the look that passes between them, but it does enough to convince Ryan that Parise’s right. Fanfuckingtastic.

“How d’ya want it?” Ryan asks, looking back and forth between the two of them. 

Parise’s looking at him too, and Shea has to force himself to meet Parise’s eyes. “I’m not picky, on my knees, on my back, I could ride you, or…”

Shea doesn’t want to see how long that list goes. “On your knees,” he says, surprised by the roughness in his voice. He didn’t think it was getting to him so bad.

Parise just smiles, then turns over, kneeling and leaning forward on his elbows, arching his back, ass in the air. It’s a great ass. Nothing that special for a hockey player, but it’s still round and full; Shea can appreciate that. It looks great, and he knows it should feel even better.

“Okay,” Ryan says, smoothing his hand over the small of Parise’s back. “But not too fast. Gentle, yeah?”

Shea nods. He can do that. He can do whatever, as long as he doesn’t have to wait any longer.

He pushes in, slowly, just like Ryan said. He doesn’t think Parise would mind if he just went for it, but Ryan sounded concerned.

He goes slow, sliding into the heat of Parise's body. Even after Ryan spent so long opening him up, Parise still feels tight.

Shea stops when he gets all the way in. It's polite to give your partner a chance to adjust at this point, even though Shea knows taking his cock isn't something that gets comfortable after just a minute, or at least it never has for anyone before. But who knows with Parise? He isn't like anyone Shea's fucked before, too loud, too _wanton_. Still, Shea stops, like he knows he's supposed to. It only lasts for a moment before Parise's cursing at him, "Please, god, Shea, just fuck me."

Well, Shea can take direction pretty well. When he wants to, and God, does he ever want to right now.

Still, he does start slow. Gently circling his hips feels good for him, and is enough to make Parise moan, though really, what isn't?

Shea starts pulling partway out after each thrust, dragging a moan from Parise each time he pushes back in. It feels good. Shea wants even more. Parise's taking anything Shea gives him; he's asking for more, with actual words, saying, "Shea, please, harder, please." Shea can do that. He wants to. He fucks Parise harder, barely holding back. Parise's moans sound more like sobs than anything else, but he still seems into it. Shea's curious: he snakes his hand between Parise's legs, finds his cock is still hard.

Parise gasps when Shea touches him, a sudden hiss of breath breaking through. He presses his hips down into Shea’s hands, and scrambles, nearly falling forward trying to grab onto something.

He ends up latching onto Ryan’s knee, holding on tight. It doesn’t look comfortable. Ryan has a soft touch — he doesn’t push Parise’s hand away; instead, he reaches out to stroke Parise’s face. Ryan runs his fingers through Parise’s hair, before resting his hand on the back of Parise’s neck.

Shea keeps thrusting, loosely holding his hand around Parise’s dick. He can hardly hear himself think between how loud Parise’s moaning and how good it feels. 

It's good Parise's enjoying himself, they're all supposed to be having a good time. This is supposed to be fun — a fun break from the routine of him and Ryan. Except that Shea wasn’t bored of that routine; they’d barely startled to settle back in after a summer apart. Shea didn’t need to spice things up, he was fine. He is enjoying himself, though.

He’s waiting for the moment Parise cracks: it's going to be too much, he's going get overwhelmed, he's going to have to stop asking for _more_ eventually, or at least after a while he won't be able to say it like he means it. Shea's looking forward to it, anticipating how Parise will look when he falls apart. Maybe he'll cry. Shea can't say he'd mind that; Parise crying underneath him while Ryan looks on. 

Everything they're doing is better because Ryan's watching. Shea could do this to Ryan if he wanted to, could fuck him long and hard and good. But Ryan's never said he wanted this, and it's always wound up happening the other way round.

Shea doesn't think he looks like Parise does now when Ryan fucks him. He likes to think he isn't so undignified; he knows he isn't so loud. It's embarrassing to think of letting anyone see him like this, just so fucking open. 

Maybe it’s wrong that Shea wants to fuck Parise up. Just a little bit, make him uncomfortable, make him start shaking. Maybe that’s mean. Doesn’t matter, though, it isn’t working. Parise’s loving every minute of it, so responsive under him. Shea does kinda want to make him cry. He doesn’t want to think about what that means, but yeah.

He doesn't need to impress Ryan; Ryan likes him already. Ryan knows how good he is, they’re together all the time. He doesn’t need to show off for Ryan, but he kind of wants to. It’s completely unnecessary. He just has to do what he does, enjoy himself, and make sure it’s good for all of them.

Shea’s close, but he’s going to make Parise come first. He speeds up the hand on Parise’s cock, jerking him fast, twisting his wrist.

“Hey, Zach, you want to come?” Ryan asks.

Parise moans, something that must mean yes. Shea can’t tell, it all sounds the same to him, but Ryan seems to know.

Ryan’s hand joins Shea’s own on Parise’s cock, stroking it as well. Shea’s own hand is just getting in the way. He can leave this to Ryan, using his own arms to hold himself up, giving himself better leverage to thrust harder, just like Parise wants him to. Ryan’s had plenty of practice jerking Parise off, since the two of them were just kids; he doesn’t need Shea’s help.

Shea lets Ryan bring Parise off, concentrating on chasing his own orgasm. He closes his eyes and doesn’t hold back. He feels it when Ryan makes Parise come. It makes Parise shudder and tighten around his cock. He hears it too, Parise getting improbably louder, choked off shouts that trail into nothing as Parise shakes until he collapses onto his elbows.

Shea keeps moving his body how it wants to go and doesn’t think. He can’t think about who he’s with or what’s happening; it’s only sex, nothing else is important. Shea comes, and only just manages not to collapse forward, crushing Parise. He pulls out, then sprawls on his back next to where Parise’s still lying limply.

He feels really wrung out and is surprised to feel the bed move like Parise’s moving. Shea opens his eyes, curious.

Apparently Parise’s moved to take Ryan’s cock in his mouth.

Shea blinks lazily. He could help. He wants to make sure Ryan gets off, but it seems like Parise has things under control. If he wants to make himself gag on Ryan’s cock, Shea’s not going to stop him.

Shea wouldn’t say Parise’s technique is that great. He might not even be trying with how sloppy it is, but really it’s beside the point. His mouth is good wet heat, and he’s letting Ryan fuck his face, with a hand on Ryan’s hip, but not seeming to hold him back at all. It doesn’t look comfortable, but Parise doesn’t seem to mind, and Ryan sure seems into it.

Ryan’s murmuring something about how much he loves Zach’s mouth. Shea can’t hear everything, and doesn’t care. Sex always makes Ryan loose with his words, generous with his compliments. Shea wouldn’t put much stock in what he says right now. 

Whatever a true evaluation would say, Parise’s doing at least pretty all right. 

Ryan comes, and Parise swallows. Shea can’t say he’s surprised; that seems like one of Parise’s moves. He didn’t expect Ryan to pull Parise up right after, kissing him long and slow, tasting himself on Parise’s lips. Parise melts against Ryan, curling against Ryan’s side in a manner that emphasises how small he is, a few inches shorter than Ryan, so much smaller than Shea.

They almost look cute together. The thought flits across Shea’s mind for half a second, an evaluation of the scene without context, without considering what just happened. It could almost be cute if it wasn’t Ryan and Parise, if Shea hadn’t just fucked Parise, if Ryan hadn’t just come in Parise’s mouth. All that and everything else stops Shea from thinking it’s cute.

Almost, though. Maybe if things were different.

Even after coming, they’re lying really close together, when there isn’t any reason for them to. Maybe it’s something that comes from knowing each other so long, maybe it’s some touchy-feely-America bullshit, Shea doesn’t care. He’s just glad they’ve left him plenty of space to sprawl.

Shea isn’t a cuddler, and even if he was, he doesn’t know Parise like that. Sometimes Ryan will want to stay close after, and Shea doesn’t really mind, but it just isn’t his thing. Shea doesn’t need to hold on to anyone, he just need to catch his breath.

Shea has to go home soon. He has someone who comes over to check in on Dug on game nights, but he shouldn’t leave his dog alone until morning. Normally he would have picked up Dug up before heading over to Ryan’s, but Parise threw off all their routines

Shea gets out of bed and gets dressed. He’ll shower at home. Ryan’s sitting up, watching him move around the room. Zach seems half asleep, spread out on his stomach, holding onto a pillow with the sheets pulled up around his waist.

“You think he needs to get back to the hotel tonight?” Shea asks. He could probably give Parise a ride, even if it would be out of his way.

“Nah,” Ryan says. “We talked, he doesn’t have to be back until after breakfast.”

Shea nods. That’s good, it saves him from making awkward small talk.

Ryan walks him downstairs — sweet but unnecessary. Shea knows his way out just fine, he even has a key to lock up behind himself. Still, Shea doesn’t mind following Ryan down the hallway, noticing how Ryan’s pajama pants are sliding down his hips. Ryan hasn’t put on a shirt.

They kiss in the entryway. There’s a nook next to the coat rack that Shea likes being crowded into. They don’t talk about making any plans; Shea knows he’ll see Ryan at practice in the morning.

Driving home in the dark, the roads don’t seem as familiar as they should. Shea’s driven the route between their houses a hundred times, but something about the night left him unsettled. It was an odd night, something out of the ordinary. Shea liked it more than he thought he would. Fucking Parise was a lot different than when it’s just him and Ryan, but that doesn’t have to be bad. Shea did enjoy himself. It was different, though. He’s glad that now things can go back to the way they were, the way they’re supposed to be.

**Author's Note:**

> the Devils would probably fly back to Jersey after the game, but whatever, this better.  
> here’s the game recap if you’re interested: http://predators.nhl.com/gamecenter/en/recap?id=2011020057


End file.
